Flirting With The Past
by Triskell
Summary: The story of Tugger's life; rated R for character death and emotional turmoil.


Author: Triskell  
Summary: story of Tugger's life...  
Rating: PG-15 (character death; hanky!)  
Disclaimer: The Jellicle Cats belong to TSE, ALW & RUG. No copyright infringement is intended. Cassie is (c) Triskell 2000 and must not be used without my permission.  
  
AN: Once again, I take liberties with the video/musical at some points in the story. Betaed by Nefer, any remaining faults are mine...

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**FLIRTING WITH THE PAST **  
© Triskell, October/November 2000  
  


** Dedicated, as a little thank you, to S. for always being there.**

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(Tugger)  
  
My name is Rum Tum Tugger and this is the story of my life. It's not all that easy to tell, but I will do my best.  
  
Most cats don't know it, but my mother is - was - Grizabella. She caught Old D's sight and he forsook his mate for a brief fling. I don't know what happened between her and Cassie, my Dad's mate of ten years after that. The first recollection I have is of my mother's eyes. She looked at me and licked my ears. I was warm within her paws and content.  
  
When Grizabella left, I was barely three weeks old. She deserted me for the glitter and glamour of a world I knew nothing of. She didn't even say goodbye. I just woke one morning, alone and cold. I stumbled out of the pipe we had lived in, and saw Jennyanydots and Jellylorum.  
  
Old D was with them and I meowed to get their attention. Both queens turned away and my father came to me. He told me my Mummy was gone. I didn't understand…until a day later. I overheard Jenny telling Jelly all about my parentage.  
  
That my mother had thrown herself at Old D, that I was a by-product of a scandalous liaison and that Everlasting Cat only knew if Cassie would ever forgive her mate for such a thing - especially since her last litter had died - except for one of the toms.  
  
I have many half-siblings, but only one true brother. Munkustrap and I are bound by the ties of blood through our father, Old D. We are the last sons he fathered, the last of his children. When Cassie died, he said he'd had his fill and wanted no other.  
  
What I never understood is how Cassie could not only forgive him for siring me after a while, but how she could accept me as if I were her own son. After Grizabella left, Cassie took me in, fostering me, protecting me…she was my source of unconditional love.  
  
Her son, Munkustrap, was a week older than me and he would have had as much cause to hate me as his mother. I was very much conscious of my place in the community. I might have been only a little kitten but those cats that I had seen with my mother at one time or another sneered at me when we met, looked down upon me - and it hurt.  
  
It was on a cold morning that I woke shivering and went in search of Old D, hoping to get warm by cuddling up to him. No one, not even he, had at this time bothered to take me in. I still slept in the pipe I had shared with my mother…alone.  
  
I didn't know then that my existence was, to most of the tribe, still a mystery. That the loss of Cassie's litter had been the only source of gossip lately and Grizabella's leaving was as yet unconnected to Old D - or her kitten.  
  
I wasn't all that secure on my feet, but I managed to crawl to the boot of the car where I had seen my father sit pretty often. But he wasn't there, so I meowed, very quietly, hoping he'd hear me.  
  
"Who're you?"  
  
A little grey tabby appeared in front of me out of nowhere, followed by a grey-white striped queen, obviously his mother, by the way she pulled him towards her to protect him from the chill.  
  
"I…don't have a name," I admitted, in a small voice and added, by way of explanation, "Daddy said Mummy was gone and she only called me her little one."  
  
Had I been able to read a cat's facial expressions, or understood that it was pain that flashed across the queen's eyes, I might have felt worse than I already did - but at that moment Old D appeared. He looked at me, then at the queen. The little tabby suddenly whispered, "Is that him?"  
  
"Come on in, kitty," was all she said to me.  
  
"Cassie…"  
  
"Don't! We'll talk about this in a few days, Deuteronomy."  
  
And the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in my head - I had just thrown myself at the mercy of the one queen who had been most hurt by my birth… I would have run away, but someone pushed against me from behind and I stumbled in front of Cassie.  
  
She smiled and nudged me gently onto a thick blanket - it was red, I think - and the tabby jumped up beside me and, after a glance at his mother, offered me his paw, "I'm Munkustrap."  
  
"Seems like we'll have to find a nice name for you, kitty," Cassie said as she curled up around the two of us. I wanted to say something, but tears were welling up in my eyes, so I buried my face into the rough blanket and hid from them.  
  
I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I remember was a flurry of grey in front of my eyes and a paw that shook me gently, if clumsily.  
  
"Hey, lazybones! Wake up! Time for breakfast!"  
  
I thought how dreadful water tasted for a moment, since that was all I had had since my mother had left me - but when I would have gone in search of the pail filled with raindrops I had drunk from lately, Munkustrap grabbed my tail and pulled me back towards his mother,  
  
"She's got enough milk for both of us," he whispered into my ear.  
  
Cassie put her paw on my head then and smiled, ruffling my fur, "Go ahead, you two, we don't have all day."  
  
It turned out that we were meeting with Old D that morning. I was nervous, for I had no idea what was to become of me. I soon found out.  
  
"I have decided to raise the kitten."  
  
"You don't have to, Cassie, though I…"  
  
"Don't say anything, Deuteronomy. I'm not doing this for you - it's not his fault you and his mother had a fling - nor is it his fault that she left. And in case you think I'm doing this to spite you - I'm not. All I ask of you in return is that you don't mention who his mother is."  
  
Had I known that this was the only thing that would enable me to fit without questioning into a tribe that was shocked and annoyed at my mother's leaving, I would have been even more surprised and grateful than I already was.  
  
Turning to me, Cassie continued, "I know it won't be easy, kitty, but do you think you can accept me as your mother?"  
  
I only nodded, unable to speak, but Munkustrap jumped up and cried, "I got a brother now, right?"  
  
"Yes, you do, dear…"  
  
"I thought…that is, Cassie, if you agree, we could name him Rum Tum Tugger. It was…"  
  
"…his mother's choice?" Cassie's voice was cold.  
  
Old D nodded. I thought I'd be thrown out now, since my origin had come up again and Munkustrap's eyes were wary all of a sudden, fixed on his father, our father.  
  
"It might have been better if she had stayed long enough to give it to him herself," the queen said sternly, "but I suppose, since we can't do anything about that…"  
  
So I was given my name and came to stay with Cassie and Munkustrap. Everyone thought I was one of Cassie's last litter. And those that knew who I really was never spoke of it again.  
  
I remember the next few months only as a happy time that passed like a flash. I was playing, laughing and I was warm, as warm as I had been in my mother's arms, every night. It took another month or so before Old D moved in with us again, and I wondered that Munkustrap never commented on it.  
  
He and Cassie seemed to have made their peace with my father - and I was excluded in a way, as I would always be. Yet I could never hold it against them. They were there for me, they gave me a home when I had none. I slowly began to realise that I might have been sent away from the junkyard if Cassie had not taken me in.  
  
"Catch me, Tug!"  
"Race you, Munk!"  
  
These were the happiest days of my life, and the shortest. Munkustrap became a part of me then, and his conduct has influenced me even more than his mother's teachings. He is so much like her, open, warm and honest. But he also has Old D's sternness and sense of honour.  
  
And all that I learned about love and trust, about friendship and family was influenced by his acceptance of me, by his friendship for a kitten that was the product of an affair that had broken his beloved mother's heart…  
  
He was overly protective of Cassie, in any and all ways. Probably because he could sense her pain at having lost two kittens, the wish to hold onto him for as long as possible. He was the last kitten she had - I don't count myself as one of her kittens; I never truly was.  
  
It was hard on Munkustrap when Cassie died, too hard, for he blamed himself in part. We'd been strolling through the streets, farther from the junkyard than we should have ventured maybe, but Cassie took delight in showing us the beauty of the city, the dark corners in side streets, warning us of the dangers that might lurk and teaching us at the same time to watch out for them.  
  
She believed in strength, stealth and independence and she wanted us to know all about it as well, as her gift to us, her special lesson.  
  
In one of the side streets we suddenly heard a faint meow, and deep, rumbling growling. I was not more than four months old, but that sound still haunts me some nights. The pollicles were about and we should have turned back to avoid them - had it not been for the faint sounds of a cat with them.  
  
Cassie told Munkustrap and me to leave at once, to return home. We stayed behind as she raced to the rescue of a cat she had never even seen. I really wanted to go, and it was with the utmost surprise that I watched the grey tabby beside me straighten up suddenly and straining his ears.  
  
"I can't hear her voice, only her hissing; I'll go and help!"  
  
"You can't! Cassie told us to stay put, you know that!"  
  
"She needs help, I can feel it and I'm not running away and leaving her unprotected!"  
  
There it was, that protective streak - I really noticed it for the first time then along with the determination and conviction in his dark eyes that he was doing right. I understood him, better than any other cat ever will, I believe. I nodded.  
  
He jumped forward the moment he received my answer, as if he had asked for my permission and he turned halfway, indicating the way home, "You go. Cassie and I will join you in a moment."  
  
As usual, he called his mother by her name; I know that it was to spare me the anguish of hearing her referred to as 'mum', his 'mum', someone else's 'mum'. To this day I've never told him who bore me. He might have heard his parents talking about Grizabella, but I doubt it. Apart from Old D, Jenny, Jellylorum and Bustopher I'm quite sure no one knows. Cassie did, but she took the knowledge with her, to her grave.  
  
As it was, I was ready to go and let Munkustrap and his Mum settle everything. But I was called back, by a sense of duty I've only ever felt to the two of them, and maybe on some occasions to my father.  
  
I crept up to where I could hear them fighting…it was a gruesome sight indeed! Cassie was bleeding, standing guard over three tiny kittens, Munkustrap at her side, his fur matted with blood, whether it was his or hers or the pollicles' I had no idea.  
  
"Get the kittens!" Cassie hissed at him and he looked at her, panicking. "I'll take care of those bastards, get the little ones out!" she repeated and he turned back, complying.  
  
Very young still, the fur-balls were lying trembling on the street and Munkustrap shouldered one of them, taking the other by the nape of the neck. Only one of them was left, a black one, with a few patches of white.  
  
I knew that Cassie couldn't hold off the pollicles for that long, and I knew that Munkustrap wouldn't be able to carry the last one to safety in time. And I followed my instincts, rushing towards that little black kitten and taking it up. Munkustrap saw me and I just nodded at him, following him away from that street.  
  
We ran to the junkyard as fast as we could, never pausing, though the kittens seemed to get heavier with every step we took. As soon as we had reached our home, Jenny bounded up to us, her ginger fur all rumpled, taking in Munkustrap's appearance with a shocked look.  
  
I laid the black kitten down gently, faster than my brother with his injuries and the little one on his back could, and called, "Cassie's fighting the pollicles!"  
  
It was a high pitched voice, breathless and fearful that rang out, but loud enough to draw attention.  
  
"Follow me!" I screeched and as soon as a few toms had assembled, I bounded ahead in front of them.  
  
I indicated the place, afraid to go closer as I could still hear the growling of the dogs and there was no sound whatsoever of Cassie.  
  
Skimble took me by the paw then, turning me round gently and telling me to return, see if Munkustrap was fine, they'd deal with those blasted pollicles.  
  
And I went. As soon as I was in sight of the junkyard, Jenny ran up to me, whisking me away to the old oven where she slept. The kittens had been packed into a blanket and Munkustrap was being restrained with difficulty by Gus, still in his bright blue costume, obviously returned from the theatre in a hurry. Jellylorum was trying very hard to clean Munku's wounds, but he wouldn't keep still.  
  
"Tell him all will be well, Tuggy, there's a good tom! We must clean him up, he's a mess, he needs rest!" Jenny's voice was faintly pleading, so I did what I could, sidling up to my brother and reassuring him as best as I could by rubbing my head against his.  
  
For some inexplicable reason he quieted the moment he saw me and let out a sigh of relief. He didn't meet my eyes and he didn't ask for his mother either. It took me a while to understand that he knew it was too late to save her.  
  
I was still ignorant of that, for I hadn't been in the fight, I could not possibly know of the pollicles' strength, not as Munkustrap could.  
  
Cassie was brought back that evening, and she was beyond help, as her son had so rightly felt. Jenny had allowed him to get up by then and while she tended to Cassie, she asked me to take care of the kittens.  
  
I knew Munkustrap was sitting with his mother, loath to leave her side, so I played with the fur-balls without much enthusiasm. The little black one, however, seemed to have taken to me, for he cuddled up to me, purring even though I tried to back away.  
  
It was unnatural that any cat should come to me for comfort. I didn't know how to give it, what to do. I was feeling so much younger than my four months and so insecure! I had finally placated the kittens and coaxed them to fall asleep, the black one still curled around my front paws, when I heard someone approaching.  
  
It was dark by then and the moon was very bright that night, or so it seemed as it fell on Munkustrap's grey and black fur, silvering and shadowing it in a flow of gentle milky light. I couldn't see his eyes, but his voice was quiet, too quiet almost and only audible because of the perfect stillness that lay upon the world.  
  
"Cassie wants you. She wants to…say…goodbye."  
  
The last word was almost choked and it was then that I finally realised that she would die. Thoughts tumbled through my head, the Heaviside Layer, we could send her there and she would come back and… I didn't voice any of them. It was not for me to say these things, I was not Cassie's son.  
  
But I disentangled myself from the dark form of the black kitten and followed Munkustrap to a sheltered spot in an old burned-out car, where Cassie lay on a blanket, on the backseat. She had been cleaned and her features were composed, but the shadow of death hung in the air and I sensed it for some inexplicable reason.  
  
She opened her eyes as we approached and looked at us, smiling almost. The moonlight cast an ethereal glow upon her and she looked like the Everlasting Cat to me then; or at least as close to it as I've ever come to regard any other cat.  
  
Munkustrap nudged me forwards, till I had climbed through one of the broken windows, and settled at her side, and then sank down beside me.  
  
Cassie fixed her eyes on us and said, her voice breaking, in a whisper, "I'm very proud of you, Munkie. You shouldn't have been there, but you helped save the kittens. That was very brave!"  
  
The grey tabby beside me only shook his head and laid a paw on my shoulder, "Tugger helped, Mum! He helped me get them away!"  
  
I wanted to say something then, deny what he had said; he had called Cassie 'Mum' for the first time since she had accepted me as her own and I didn't want him to share even this last moment with me, it was so much more than I could have deserved!  
  
But Cassie smiled and reached out a paw to pat my head, "I would have been proud of you even so, but you've shown extreme courage and I'm touched by your bravery!"  
  
I think I was sniffling, for she continued patting me, her speech slurring down, "I want you to watch out for each other and your father. Family is what counts and I want you to remember that I've loved you both more than I can express. You will know what I mean when you look upon your own kittens…"  
  
The next words were unintelligible, but I nodded nevertheless, feeling the movement of her paw stopping slowly, until it slipped from my head, to fall limply to her side. Only then did I notice the pain of claws in my shoulder and realised that Munkustrap was leaning against me, gripping me tightly.  
  
I was still crying as I turned to him and saw that tears were running across his nose; I reached out to him then, as he had reached for me and offered me a share of his mother's love. I cleaned his face carefully, rubbing my head against his neck until he stopped crying.  
  
No one disturbed us as we sat a silent watch by Cassie's body for the remainder of the night, leaning against each other for warmth and comfort.  
  
In this silence a friendship was born that could never be broken. For no matter how much we changed in the following years, we always had that night, that memory we shared. We didn't have to talk, we simply knew that we were bonded, not only by the ties of blood, but by the stronger ties of love - Cassie's love, a mother's love.  
  
After his mother's death, Munkustrap became more reclusive. I could guess at the cause, but I left him to his solitary walks and his brooding.  
  
I had a different way of dealing with the pain. Since losing Cassie, I felt even more like I didn't belong somehow and somewhere along the line I decided on a motto, a simple motto that I strove to live up to in every case: "You can't ignore me, you must adore me." ()  
  
I wanted to be noticed, I wanted to be loved. I might have become a mischievous tease, getting into trouble time and again, but I felt that I owed it to Cassie to be good. I owed her all the motherly love I had known and I was bound to a silent promise I had made to myself - never to discredit her attention and trust in me.  
  
Yet being a fairly attractive tom, I soon began to realise how easy it was to flirt, to impress the queens. It was simple, really. I hung around them, complimented them and flaunted myself in their faces - then I drew back and they just came after me.  
  
I made no promises, but I had them stay with me for a while just as well. I learned how to please them, without ever asking for the love I knew they couldn't give me. For I realised that what I sought as 'love' was not something that would be lavished upon me so easily. It needed time to grow, a time I did not have, did not want to spend hoping for something I thought I could never have.  
  
I wanted it all, and now! Adoration and admiration, wide eyes and throaty purrs. It was exciting, exhilarating and it gave me comfort.  
  
It was only a shadow of the affection Cassie had given me and yet I dared not try to aspire for more - I was, and still am, very much afraid of rejection. It is a part of me, as Munkustrap's kitten laugh is, as my memories of Cassie are.  
  
A few more months passed and at my first Jellicle Ball I was already known as a notorious flirt. Still, everyone looked upon me as a young, slightly stupid tom, who needed to sow his wild oats before he would settle down.  
  
But I was past caring for such hopes in me. I was by then so used to constant flattering, to being surrounded by pretty queens who were all crazy about me that I didn't care for anything. I lived from moment to moment, from day to day - frivolously easy and unconcerned with the future. I pushed aside the past and let my spirits soar.  
  
Munkustrap never understood - he never asked and I never offered any explanation. The only one who seemed to know my thoughts at that time was Quaxo, the little black kitten who had come to the tribe on the fateful day that we had lost Cassie. The other two were named Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.  
  
They looked so much alike, and yet we found out that those two, in fact, all three kittens, had no family; they weren't related in any way, yet one name fell that connected them all - Macavity. It seemed as if, once again, the master criminal of uncertain age and origin had taken a few lives…and left the litter of his victims to the pollicles on the street.  
  
It wasn't long before we all noticed that Quaxo was different, that he had powers beyond that of an ordinary cat. Old D took to him and helped him develop his abilities, but no one spoke about it. He just was a cat, a Jellicle. That was enough for all.  
  
But I knew him better. He had attached himself to me, in a way I could not understand. He would come to me, to talk, or just to stare wide-eyed at the queens who wooed me with star-struck eyes. He accepted my wild ways, even showed me some of his 'tricks', though I could never be sure if they were only that or some show of his extraordinary gifts.  
  
He was as much a mystery to me in most ways as I was to him. And while Munkustrap and I ceased to play with each other, even to see each other for a chat, Quaxo was my companion. My brother and I grew up and our friendship hid in the shadows of the differences in our lives.  
  
A small black kitten with a patch of white on his chest remained for my comfort. 'Hero worship' was what Jenny called it. I only laughed at her, as I had taken to laughing at so many things. I didn't want to feel for another cat what I had felt for Cassie. She had died, leaving me just as my mother had left me. But Cassie had never deserted me as Grizabella had, for there was still something that kept her alive within me. She had given me her love, and her trust.  
  
As had Munkustrap, Old D, and now Quaxo. It was strange but no matter how much I tried to push them away they wouldn't let me, each of them stayed with me in their own way.  
  
Old D left me to my own devices, refusing to comment on my life, keeping out of it, asking for no more than the respect that was due to him.  
  
Munkustrap shook his head at me, he removed from me, but he still cared for me. Often, on coming back late at night, I'd find a mouse, rat or some other titbit in front of my lodgings that still had his scent on it. He knew that I had been taken in by a human family and he also knew that they were spoiling me…  
  
Yet I have to admit that I never enjoyed anything more than the simple food he left for me. It was a token of a friendship never to be broken, a love between brothers that would not change for all the changes in our lives.  
  
And Quaxo, he grew up into a short, lean tom and he refused to accept aloofness as an excuse, wouldn't let me hide behind being the tribe's heartthrob. He challenged me, my motives and my doings.  
  
"You shouldn't play hide-and-seek with Bombalurina all the time. You like her too much for that."  
  
"I have no idea what you mean."  
  
"You know very well what I mean. I've never seen you tease a queen the way you tease her, and I've never seen you in love like that either."  
  
"I'm NOT in love."  
  
"Face it, Tugger. It was bound to happen. You can't hide behind this mask of the callous flirt forever."  
  
It was one of the things I had never wanted to hear, especially not from Quaxo, since he was one of those who knew me too well for my own good.  
  
"This is none of your business, short one," I snarled, and regretted it the same moment.  
  
Instead of turning from me, however, Quaxo only looked at me out of dark eyes, so much like my brother's and smiled, changing the subject,  
  
"I've got a surprise for the Jellicle Ball - it's my first one after all…and I wanted you to be the first to see it."  
  
Not waiting for my response, he closed his eyes, turned around once and said, "Presto!"  
  
And suddenly he stood in front of me - a totally different cat! I might have said something like 'Oh', but I can't remember for sure. Never yet had he surprised me like that. His card tricks were spectacular, but a total change of his fur…that was something entirely different and mildly…disconcerting.  
  
Quaxo was grinning, very well pleased with himself as he always was when he made me lose my mask of studied disinterest in my surroundings.  
  
"I call it - Mr. Mistoffelees. It'll be my alter ego for the ball. I can't do my magic tricks as Quaxo; after all I've learned that presentation is half the success."  
  
"And who taught you that?"  
  
"You, of course! If it weren't for your carefully groomed looks, you wouldn't have half as many queens hanging about you. Your attitude only works cause you're the most attractive tom around," and with a sly grin he added, "or, let's say, the one who manages to make everyone believe he's the most attractive."  
  
"Any competition up for me?" I just had to ask.  
  
"Only me, I'm afraid…yet."  
  
I laughed aloud at that; if I would have had to name any tom who might have taken my place with the ladies I'd never have thought of Quaxo. Still, I had to hand it to him, he knew what he wanted and that probably was what counted, after all.  
  
"So, are you going to be performing anything special?"  
  
"I wanted to ask you, since I got quite a few tricks up my sleeve and can't make up my mind."  
  
"Sure thing, Quax, let's go over your tricks then."  
  
He grinned, good-naturedly as always and we spent the rest of the afternoon in comfortable silence making up a list of magic tricks. The quiet was only broken now and then by a mumbled 'Presto!' when Quaxo, or Mr. Mistoffelees as I should refer to him, conjured something up - to practice…  
  
Munkustrap was, as I had always known, reliable and stable, his quietness stemming in part from the scar left by his mother's death, or so I supposed. He sought to protect others and help his father.  
  
A few months before our second Jellicle Ball he had been appointed right hand to Old D. This was only right, in my opinion, for he is the born leader. His sense of justice and compassion is strong, stronger even than when he was a kitten.  
  
Yet I know that for all his warmth and his caring he still is alone. He hasn't found a mate. And I'm not sure he ever will; after all, most of the queens he fancies turn out to prefer me to his calm and quiet ways.  
  
He is a protector to them, a brother at best, but none of them seems to see the tom in him. Kittens play with him, but they never truly want him. It makes me sad for him. Fortunately I know that most of his crushes weren't serious, not yet. And one has to admire his taste!  
  
There's a new queen at the junkyard. Demeter's her name and Bombalurina swears she's a great friend of hers. She came here because of a tom - that is all she will tell. I was sitting with Old D that night, when Munkustrap and Quaxo approached, asking for a word.  
  
"It's Macavity! Demeter told me, but she's too frightened to say his name out loud. I have no idea what he did to her, but…" the black tom shuddered and it wasn't hard to interpret the hard gleam in his eyes.  
  
"We will not speak of it then. I am glad, however, that the little one opens up to us now. It is commendable," Old D intoned quietly.  
  
"We will protect her," Munkustrap's voice was quiet, but the tone was as fierce as his mother's might have been when she was determined to take care of a problem.  
  
I observed him closely after that and soon found out that he was drawn to the young queen. Good for him, she is quite a sight. Though probably slightly unaware of it, she exudes sensuality and her eyes can take a tom's heart, should she wish it.  
  
I'm still hard at work charming her friend, Bombalurina. She's gorgeous and gets far too much attention from the other toms, she's too tempting to pass by. I want her, it's a craving I've never felt before and couldn't explain and yet I don't like the feeling that Quaxo's observation of my being in love with her has evoked in me.  
  
It scares me to think of 'love' in context with a queen. Any cat, for that matter. Friendship's scary enough as it is. So I'm used to drive that thought from my mind, hiding behind other things, my own observations for example.  
  
Munkustrap is being his most reassuring, gentle self with Demeter. I have named him the 'Tabby Knight', though I most certainly wouldn't say it to his face. He wouldn't understand how he appears to other cats, how he appears to me.  
  
I only hope that Demeter won't scoff at his love. For I'm quite sure it's a lasting affection. His heart has been broken once or twice, I believe, though he doesn't speak about it and I really have no idea how he bears it; this time a rejection would shatter him.  
  
I realise now that we haven't truly talked for months. Almost a year in fact. Not conversations like the ones we had when we were still kittens.  
  
And what is even more frightening to me is that I'm beginning to miss that. I really want to talk, to listen, to exchange my feelings. And that scares me beyond anything else. Quaxo might suspect it, but the others can't. I'm even more exuberant than usual and at the height of my charming powers.  
  
I will tempt any queen to my bed and I will wake up alone again after a short while. I try so hard to seem unconcerned, to push the nagging doubts and fears away; I don't want to listen to my inner voice that says I should search for the love I've so long denied myself.  
  
As if it were out there, ready for me, just waiting for me to reach out and take it. It's not that easy. My own mother left me! I never truly belonged to anyone and I'm quite sure I was never meant to. All the kindness I've received was out of pity, it can't be that any cat loves me for simply being myself.  
  
And then there's this little part inside me, this voice in my head that says I am loved and cared for, despite all my denials. That Munkustrap is my brother and will always love me as such, through the all-encompassing love his mother instilled in him.  
  
And that Quaxo is my friend and will stand by me like a brother. One evening we were sitting together on a pipe, by mutual agreement it seemed. For only a few minutes after I had sat down hating to be alone he stopped by and seated himself beside me.  
  
"Lovely night, isn't it?" I mumbled, a half-hearted attempt at conversation.  
  
"Full moon's out tonight. And there might be a few shooting stars for you to wish upon."  
  
"I have all I want," I answered, a little too quickly, but Quaxo passed it by, smiling knowingly.  
  
"Munkustrap's our protector now, officially, I mean."  
  
"Mmhh."  
  
"You know, Jenny told me only today that I ought to stop hero-worshipping you since you were a bad influence."  
  
Now that got my attention, "Me? A bad influence? She's got nerves to say that, she's been mooning over me when Skimble wasn't near…"  
  
Quaxo laughed heartily and clapped me on the back, "See, that's just what I told her and she was quiet in a flash."  
  
"You said THAT to her?"  
  
"Speak your mind, that's what I've been taught."  
  
'Not by me' I thought, almost ashamed to acknowledge that it hurt that some of the things he lived by could not possibly have been inspired by someone like me.  
  
"Munkustrap pulled me aside once," the black tom continued as if he had guessed my silent remark, "I had been talking to Vicky and I kinda lied to her when I said that I thought she wasn't stuck-up. I thought she was, at that time."  
  
He grinned in remembrance, softly shaking his head, "Munkustrap heard us. He came up to me and told me that it wouldn't do to swindle my way around what I really thought. That it was better to be honest, even if it hurt you - or the other - sometimes."  
  
"Then you've had the best teacher…"  
  
"No, not really. After all, there are things that he doesn't talk about either, even though he might feel better if he did."  
  
"Do you know everyone's secret thoughts?"  
  
"I wouldn't call a hunch of what cats are feeling 'knowledge of their secret thoughts'. Munkustrap's pushing aside painful memories, or dark ones - I couldn't tell…very much like you."  
  
I nodded in spite of wanting to deny the truth in his words and he smiled, bowing his head and conjuring a bowl of cream out of thin air for us.  
  
It is at night that memories assail me most often. I sometimes lie awake, alone, watching the moon and then I cry. Everyone who knew me as a kitten thinks I've lost my mind, that I've become emotionally detached, that I don't care for the feelings of others anymore.  
  
Yet they have never pushed me away from them, I'm still part of the tribe, welcome in their midst. I belong to them and they to me, like a family, a connection that can't be broken. And then there are, of course, the humans that I stay with now and then. They adore me, like the queens and kittens do and they shower me with affection.  
  
But I know that I'm a fake, as false as is their belief that they love and need me; for they don't. I'm not important to anyone. Munkustrap has found a place as a protector and though he will have a hard time finding a mate, I'm sure he'll settle down and be a good father one day.  
  
I am restless, too much like my mother, I believe. At times I wonder if my way of dealing with problems was hers as well, whether she left to get away from her responsibilities, as I have become a flirt to slip away from emotions.  
  
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to meet her. I've seen her a few times in the past months, slipping quietly in and out of the shadows. At first I didn't recognise her, then I overheard Jenny telling Demeter about her.  
  
"Her name's Grizabella - the glamour cat. She left the tribe, just like that, to pursue her own interests. Now she hangs about the seedy side of town, near Tottenham Court. It's a sorry sight, for sure, but it was her own wish. Old Deuteronomy himself was very hurt by her leaving, rejecting her life with us."  
  
I couldn't sleep that night, for the vision of my mother in the shadows haunted me. So she was the queen who had born me? I tried to find rest but I couldn't keep the thought from returning and plaguing me.  
  
I don't feel sorry for her. I feel anger, resentment and I ask myself time and again why she left, why she didn't love me enough to stay. And I can't understand it, I probably never will. I might have turned out differently if I had had a mother - and then I chide myself, for I had a mother, one I didn't deserve, the very queen that had been replaced for a short while by the cat who gave life to me.  
  
Thinking of Cassie still hurts after all this time and so I let the images of her face, the sensation of her warmth and care slip away quietly. I store them at the back of my mind, where they belong. I can't face them. I can't face the love that I lost and that I'll never have again.  
  
The Jellicle Ball brought me no peace of mind, I couldn't even really enjoy it. Oh, yes, I did have my moments, showing off my wild side, keeping everyone's attention on me. But then my mother showed up. I recognised her and I turned away.  
  
I knew her now and I couldn't bear to look at her. I hated her at that moment, so much that I didn't trust myself not to lash out at her, so I just stalked away, watching her interaction with the others from the distance. Seeing Bombalurina pass Grizabella by, hissing at her, felt good; as if I wanted to punish my mother for leaving me, as if everyone should punish her for it.  
  
However, that was the only pleasure Bomba afforded me that evening. She was coming too dangerously close to me. It was a flirtation, for sure, but I felt more affected by it than I liked and so I tried to keep away from her, pushing her away.  
  
I had to do it, to save myself from this longing for her that was so distinctly more than the craving for physical contact. It scared the hell out of me.  
  
It just wasn't something I was prepared to acknowledge, the possibility that I could have feelings for a queen, that Quaxo could have been right. She took the message to heart, and decided to give me back some of my own medicine. As soon as I bestowed attention on the kittens, she made eyes at Pouncival. Not that he didn't provoke it.  
  
I've never seen a tom more keen on hitting on Bomba! Sure, everyone wants her, but he's been crazy about her for ages, practically from the moment he realised there was a difference between toms and queens.  
  
I think that he's only interested in her on the physical level. In a way that ought to reassure me but I have discovered that I loathe him for it. As much as I loathe myself for it. Every time I flirt with a queen I'm beginning to ask myself if I have any right to seduce her and have her in my bed.  
  
In fact, I wonder that any of the queens are still interested in me. They should know better than to think that I might fall for any of them. If they look for love, they'd better lavish their attention on my brother.  
  
Ah, yes, Munkustrap. The Jellicle hero, the 'Tabby Knight'. I know he'll take our father's place one day and I'm sure there isn't a cat better suited for the office than him.  
  
However, at times I can't help being jealous of him. It's stupid, really. I'm jealous of his courage, his dedication and his ability to give his love freely and unconditionally. I want to let go so much, to be like him, to open up but every time I try I just get scared, I close my eyes to what I truly want and run from it.  
  
Just as I ran from Macavity. Well, not all that intentionally, but I ran all the same. After Old D had been catnapped, Munkustrap sent the toms out to look for him. I was with Skimble and we stayed out a bit longer than most of the others. We thought we had found a lead; at least that's what I told myself.  
  
Poor Skimble actually thought we'd track Old D down; after a few dirty side streets I knew he was wrong, but I didn't tell him, I played along. And all that because I was frightened. I felt safer out on the streets, away from the junkyard just then, as if I knew that Macavity would return, that he would threaten the tribe.  
  
I wasn't there when my brother fought to protect the Jellicles, when he once again offered his life to save others. I wasn't there when he was wounded. I wasn't there and it had been my conscious decision. I could have told Skimble to skip the last few streets. There was no trace of Old D there anyway.  
  
Instead I trudged along behind him, hands on hips, pretending to search for a cat who wasn't there. A few minutes longer; I might have lost my brother. I didn't know, didn't want to think about what might happen.  
  
When Skimble and I came back to the junkyard we saw an explosion of light and then heard the awed whisper, "Macavity's not there!"  
  
We knew what had happened and Skimble almost fell over his own paws trying to find Jenny. He's a good sort of tom, only a bit slow at times. I, however, crept onto a pipe and lay there for a while, seeing a small light illuminating a circle in the midst of the yard.  
  
And I recognised my brother as he was taken care of by the queens. I saw that it was Demeter who was cleaning his wounds, along with Rumpleteazer and Jellylorum. And I knew that it was my fault it had come to this. I ought to have been by his side as was my duty, not only as a Jellicle, but as his friend, his brother.  
  
I remembered Quaxo then, and his magical tricks and as I had nothing better to offer for comfort, I told the others about his magical powers, about his other identity - the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees. I called for him and he came. And for once, I didn't manage the cold cynicism that has become so much a part of me.  
  
I actually asked the others to listen to me. "_Please, listen to me and don't scoff_." They probably didn't even realise I was pleading with them, that I wanted to be accepted despite my failing to be there when I was needed.  
  
But Munkustrap heard it, I'm sure, for when we talked later he was more than ready to forgive me - and if nothing else, this is a comfort to me.  
  
Quaxo, Mistoffelees to be exact, restored the lights in the junkyard and he even brought Old D back. I never properly thanked him. But my emotion was in my voice as I welcomed my father back and I just looked at Quaxo and he smiled, nodding. He knew what I couldn't say. But still I think I ought to have said it out loud.  
  
One day I will, I have sworn it to myself. Now that the evening is over I have even more food for thought. Not only did my brother drag himself up enough to perform his duties as leader-in-chief flawlessly, but my mother was sent to the Heaviside Layer.  
  
I didn't forgive her. It haunts me. I feel guilty. I might have taken her paws, yet all I managed was a curt nod, standing behind the others, not coming close. Cassandra stood beside me and she bowed at least. I just stood there like a statue. And I had sneered at her before, hoping to drive her away. I thought I had a good reason, but when she told her story…she shouldn't have been treated like this. And she shouldn't have left me.  
  
I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for not accepting her as the others did. Still it wasn't in my power just then. I kept apart from the others, saluting her as she went up to the Lair of the Everlasting Cat. She smiled at me, once, looking directly into my eyes as she stepped towards her new life.  
  
I cherish that smile. It's the only one I remember from her, the only smile my mother ever gave me.  
  
I shiver in the night breeze and I know that I must face another cat tonight; for though Grizabella will never be able to forgive me - Munkustrap can. It was hard to get to him, however.  
  
Firstly I had to pass Demeter and that's not as easy as other cats might think. I was surprised myself, since I had not expected her to be quite so…forceful.  
  
She looked me up and down, the same way I had looked at her when she had come to the junkyard and she gave me a look that almost chilled me to the bone. She was angry with me, I realised. She had noticed that I wasn't there to help my brother!  
  
"I wouldn't let you in, but he's insisting on being fine," she shrugged her shoulders, "Just don't take too long and don't excite him."  
  
I nodded, attempting a smile. It was the worst fake smile I've ever produced. She stepped aside somewhat reluctantly to let me pass and I inclined my head slightly in her direction. She had averted her eyes and didn't see it.  
  
My heart was beating a lot too fast when I finally stood before Munkustrap. I didn't look at him though, keeping my eyes fixed on a point past his head,  
  
"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you."  
  
"Forget about it."  
  
I looked at his prone form then; the blood that had matted his fur had been cleaned away; but his eyes were tired and somewhat haunted as he spoke to me and I jumped to a conclusion without thought, remembering the same look from the night when his mother had died.  
  
"I knew that I ought to have come back to help you fight Macavity! It's not the same as it was when Cassie was wounded. You never thought about yourself or your life, you stood by her to the last. And it wasn't your fault that you couldn't save her!"  
  
It just slipped past my lips and I wanted to take it back the next moment, seeing the pain in my brother's eyes. But then he grabbed my paw, hugged me and whispered, "Thank you."  
  
I had no idea what to say, Munkustrap surely is the last tom who needs to thank me for anything. But even as I shook my head he smiled, almost wistfully, and looked straight into my eyes, "I still think I might have done more to help her; I'm glad you're not angry with me."  
  
It sounded as if he was apologizing for a failure of his! And that was something I couldn't bear, "Stop that nonsense! You're all Cassie ever wanted you to be! And she was proud you came back to stand by her! If you ever again say such nonsense to my face I'm gonna…beat you black and blue!"  
  
I was growling at him, for the first time in my life I was actually angry with him. I just knew he had no right to think so badly of himself. No one had the right to think ill of my brother! And his smile deepened, even though I knew I hadn't convinced him. What scared me was the amount of relief I saw in his eyes, as if he had needed me to forgive him…  
  
I averted my eyes from his and looked straight onto the evidence of his fight. There would be many scars, I concluded, for most of the wounds were fairly deep. They had been cleaned but it was clear that he had to be in great pain. I wanted to help him, to be there for him, but I was at a loss for words.  
  
"Could you tell Demeter to go get some sleep? She won't listen to me, but it's embarrassing and exasperating to have her here, she worries too much."  
  
The fondness in his voice was barely masked by his open concern for her, he did enjoy being looked after - who wouldn't, if the queen in question is the one one's heart belongs to?  
  
I nodded, slipping out of his pipe and coming face to face with the startlingly green eyes of the young queen.  
  
"Munkustrap would like you to rest a while…," I began and was surprised to see her shake her head silently, stubbornly, "He's worried about you and it might be better…"  
  
"Nonsense! I won't leave him now. He needs to be looked after. He mustn't stir too much, his wounds must be cleaned at regular intervals and…" she trailed off but I thought I could easily finish for her.  
  
"You don't owe him anything. It's his way to protect other cats."  
  
Her eyes were flashing now as she raised her paw and brought it down sharply on my head, "You might not understand it, but it's not just 'his way'! It's no one's 'way', it's a conscious decision that needs great courage and caring and total disregard for oneself! It's brave and selfless, not just one's 'way'!" she hissed at me.  
  
I couldn't believe it, especially not as I had seen her when Macavity appeared. She'd all but cowered and now she was telling me off. Strangely enough I found that to be a good sign for Demeter's honest attachment to my brother, and that thought made me smile.  
  
She was still glowering at me, however, so I composed myself and put on my most haughty look, "You can go and sleep. I'll take care of Munkustrap."  
  
She didn't seem to have any intention to move and I realised with a sinking feeling that she didn't trust me enough to let me look after my own brother. And, I had to admit it, it must be pretty hard for her to see me in a positive light. In her eyes I was, and am, after all, just a flirt; I never take responsibilities, it seems odd that I'm suddenly keen to do something for another cat.  
  
So I gave in. I looked into her eyes and tried to keep steady under her piercing gaze as I said, my tone as gentle as it has ever been but without the seductive sweetness I have so long cultivated, "I won't let any harm come to my brother. I give you my word as a Jellicle on it."  
  
She blinked then, surprised I think, and she nodded her head slowly, "I'll be with Bombalurina if he needs me."  
  
I kept my composure until her back was turned to me and grinned madly at her retreating form… 'if he needs me' I really, really liked that! So it seemed that Munkustrap had finally ensnared a queen's heart - good for him!  
  
I didn't say anything of course. It's not my place to get involved in my brother's life. So I just returned to his side, stopped any attempt of his to talk and made sure he slept before I began to meticulously clean his wounds. Never mind that it was not a very dignified occupation for the junkyard flirt to care for a wounded cat.  
  
During this night I couldn't have cared less for my pride, my every thought was focused on easing my brother's pain…  
  
"Tugger?"  
  
I came awake in a flash, sitting up and staring straight into my brother's eyes. I could have sworn they were twinkling with something like…amusement?  
  
"Ah, yes…I…how do you feel?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
A blatant lie, easy to tell by the creases of pain just about visible around his eyes and mouth every time he moved, and his hunched shoulders.  
  
"Lie down."  
  
Another of these slightly amused glances and a weary, "Are you bossing me around, Tugger?"  
  
I admit I stared at him. He was quite…playful, so very much like the kitten I had known, the fun-loving playfellow of my earliest youth. I grinned then and nudged him to the blanket.  
  
"Think you can convince me?" I hissed into his ear.  
  
His eyes widened and he smiled, mumbling, "Should have known you'd see through me."  
  
I watched him out of the corner of my eye and realised for the first time the air of relief around him…  
  
"You were afraid of Macavity?" Stupid question really, considering who that cat was, I admonished myself.  
  
"Yes. Afraid of him, afraid for Demeter, for the others…so much depended on whether or not I was able to fight him," his eyes were tired still as he added, in a low voice I had to strain to hear, "I might have failed…"  
  
"You didn't."  
  
Munkustrap didn't seem to think my remark worthwhile answering, so I shrugged my shoulders and sat by his side.  
  
"Alonzo's alright, I trust? And the others?"  
  
"Sure. They're probably forming a committee to bring you a bouquet of mice."  
  
He grinned, though the joke sounded lame even to my own ears.  
  
"Tell me what you've been up to lately, Munk."  
  
"Nothing much, Tug, not really. Just this and that, nowhere near as fascinating as your exploits with the females."  
  
"I'd still like to know." And I did, I really wanted to hear him tell me what he was doing, as if searching for a connection to a life I had so blatantly rejected the moment I began to flirt with the queens, vying for their attention.  
  
"This isn't just some plot of yours to keep me lying down?"  
  
I grinned, "That's one of the positive side effects."  
  
I ducked the half-hearted swipe of his paw and settled down comfortably, listening to his soft words.  
  
I was relieved off duty by Demeter just before noon, when she came in carrying a few rats. I asked her for a word and she went outside with me, no word of complaint on her lips.  
  
"I'll be back tonight." Not very eloquently put, but I did want to be useful and I must say that the idea of refreshing my friendship with Munkustrap began to be one of my main goals in life.   
  
It might have been the realisation that I could have lost my brother forever, like I had lost Cassie. Or that I had figured out that there were some cats I was close to, whether I liked it or not, and that I couldn't push them away, since they would still be in my thoughts - and my heart.  
  
"Sure, bring dinner round for Munkustrap then," a brief nod and she was gone.  
  
I grinned and set off to look for Quaxo. I had something in mind, a plan that, though complicated, might be one of the best of all times…with a little help.  
  
Quaxo was lounging in one of my favourite spots on the pipe, mooned over by Victoria and Electra. They hardly noticed me when I came up and my heart sank. My friend saw me, waved and winked at me, then joined me and said, "Gotta go, ladies. See you later."  
  
As soon as we were out of ear-shot he dissolved into a laughing fit and clapped me on the shoulder.  
  
"Seeing your face just now - that was almost worth putting up with Vicky's questions about how I got a rainbow coloured band into a hat! Don't worry, they still love you, but since you weren't round last night I thought I'd entertain them a little."  
  
"Doesn't matter," my voice was more gruff than I liked, but I was beginning to be really jealous of that young black tom.  
  
He sobered after a moment and smiled, "What's up?"  
  
"I thought about Munk, how he's always alone and…"  
  
"Ah, so you were with him last night, I thought you'd take care of him. But," seeing my wide eyes, "I didn't tell anyone. Let them figure out you have a heart for themselves. They're too easily judging other cats as it is."  
  
I had to clear my throat, the mention of my heart having done nothing to soothe the jumble of my feelings that made my state of mind turbulent at best.  
  
"I was hoping you'd help me with a little…match-making."  
  
Quaxo grinned, his eyes bright with mischief as he nodded, "Sure thing, name the queen and I'll be on it!"  
  
I couldn't help but return his smile, he was immersing himself in the project already, I could see thousands of ideas passing through his mind, flitting through his eyes as they were analysed and stored away again.  
  
"I was thinking of a moonlight serenade."  
  
"Great! What do you want? Mild summer breeze? Honeysuckle scents? Full moon maybe?"  
  
"Eager to show off your powers, aren't you, Quax?"  
  
"Course I am!" he was laughing silently now, his face artless and open like every one of his gestures.  
  
I wondered how he had managed to keep his innocence, his warmth and faith in life and love after what he'd been through. He'd never truly seen his parents, his earliest memories were of hatred, pain and destruction.  
  
As if reading my thoughts he sat beside me, suddenly serious and, looking into the distance said, very quietly,  
  
"I was frightened and I thought we'd die. But there was a grey-white striped queen - funny I should remember her colouring, don't you think? She protected us. And then Munkustrap was there. He picked up the other two, despite his injuries and he had to leave me," he paused briefly, looking at me out of large, knowing eyes,  
  
"But then you were there and picked me up and carried me away. You were gone again after you'd put me down, but you came back later. And I felt safe. I knew that Munkustrap - or that grey blur I saw him as - was easier once you were around again too. I began to associate security with you."  
  
I would have stopped him, had I not been totally fascinated by his narration. To think that anyone had ever regarded me as giving instead of as taking…  
  
"And you stayed. You know, Tugger, you never truly stepped out of my life again. When I ran after you, you smiled at me, sometimes you let me chase your tail…you never pushed me away."  
  
And I began to slowly understand what he was trying to tell me - as I looked at him then, he smiled,  
  
"You think you don't have Munkustrap's strength or his dedication, but you do. And what you believe yourself incapable of giving, you've given to me. You may say you can't possibly fall in love, since you've left your heart somewhere along the way," he was openly grinning now, "but it kept following you and now it's finally caught up and demands your attention."  
  
I shook my head, but I knew he was right. I had run away from feelings, from love and caring, from all responsibility. And in the process I had unconsciously offered Quaxo exactly the same thing Munkustrap had offered me…  
  
"Guess Munk's rubbed off on me…" I sounded like a gruff, aged tom.  
  
Quaxo laughed at me, until I couldn't help but join in.  
  
When I returned to Munkustrap's place, dinner safely in my mouth, I took only a minute to deposit the mice before asking Demeter for another word. I guess she was exasperated with me already, the look she gave me spoke of plain disapproval, which turned to amazed surprise as I told her, matter-of-factly,  
  
"I can't help but think you love Munkustrap."  
  
If ever a queen's glance was full of daggers, I fell down stabbed to death that moment.  
  
"That's none of your business," she hissed, her claws unsheathing. I decided for the more subtle approach Quaxo had counselled.  
  
"Look, I don't want to see him hurt. He cares for you and if you break his heart…"  
  
She looked at me, her green eyes wide, assessing my words, "It's none of your business. But I promise you that I'll never hurt Munkustrap."  
  
Not what I had hoped for, but enough, especially when I considered the tone she had said my brother's name in…  
  
"That's good enough for me."  
  
She turned around, briefly sticking her head into Munk's pipe, calling "See you tomorrow!" before setting off into the dusk.  
  
"You do have a way with queens, Munk, you know that?"  
  
He was confused, yet I did enjoy teasing him, a bit too much maybe than was good for me. But I needed to know what exactly his feelings were. Quaxo had told me, after long deliberations that he considered a moonlight serenade to be a little out of place - if arranged by us.  
  
It wasn't Munkustrap's style, he was no dashing romantic. Not that Quaxo hadn't had a laughing fit when I said I considered him to be the one and only 'Tabby Knight', but still, my friend was right - Demeter and Munkustrap needed a more subtle, less obvious approach.  
  
"Well, I was talking about Demeter, Munk. You know, it's not everyday a tom jumps in and saves the queen in distress when a baddie like Macavity appears on the picture…"  
  
"Tugger! You make me sound like one of those knights out of the humans' picture books!" his tone was pure accusation, yet it did nothing to stem my grin from spreading wider on my face than ought to have been possible.  
  
"Fess up, Munk. Is she, or is she not?"  
  
"Is she what?"  
  
"Your sweetheart."  
  
The effect of this word on Munkustrap was just priceless! His face fell and he looked very nervous all of a sudden, "You don't…I've not…she doesn't…"  
  
"Just say yes or no, Munk."  
  
"I…"  
  
Now I had done it. My brother was at a loss for words and felt extremely ill at ease. To see him fidget like that - it brought up all memories of our kittenhood. Finally I took mercy on him and said conversationally,  
  
"You love her."  
  
He simply nodded.  
  
"You should tell her."  
  
"Sure, Tug, as if it was so easy. Want me to strut up to her and say 'hey, Dem, how about living with me'?"  
  
If mirth ever had a face, it would have been mine just then, "I'd love to see that! Come on, Munk, seriously."  
  
"She'll feel grateful, obliged and…"  
  
"NO. If you had seen her hit me on the head, and hard, I might add, when I assumed that was the reason for her taking care of you…"  
  
"She hit you?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Munkustrap's face brightened all of a sudden and he looked at me, confusion gone and his eyes bright, "You think I got a chance!"  
  
Giving a mock groan, I nodded my head and prepared myself for an onslaught of all of Demeter's perfections as related by her soon-to-be-lover. I had seen Munkustrap like that before - having a crush on Bomba as a nine-months old had been the occasion - and I was resigned to spending the night listening to his elaborations.  
  
He remained quiet, smiling.  
  
"Dinner?" he eventually queried, his eyes dancing and I figured that I might have mistaken his silence after all.  
  
"I won't enumerate all her perfections, Tug, I don't even know her that well."  
  
"So you'll ask her to spend more time with you."  
  
"Yes."  
  
That was too much like Munkustrap, too delicate and sensible. I sighed. I'd probably have raced to her, swept her off her feet with a kiss and…  
  
As realisation dawned, it took me totally unaware - I wouldn't do that, not when I was in love with a queen. And unbidden Bomba's face appeared in front of my inner eye and refused to budge all night.  
  
To my utmost surprise, Quaxo was able to conjure up a moonlight serenade after all - the day Munkustrap asked Demeter to be his mate. He had only told Quaxo, but my friend hadn't been able to leave me out of the fun and had engaged my help in planning it all to perfection.  
  
"No clouds tonight, which is good, full moon, very good indeed…you got the fish?"  
  
"Sure, a white mouse too, some cream…"  
  
Quaxo was ticking things off on a list that hung suspended in midair, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle he made of himself. He had been shy once, but there was not a trace of it left, at least not when he was involved in some scheme or other (which he almost constantly was, of course).  
  
During the past two months I had given up on encouraging the kittens' attentions. I let Quaxo take over, much to his chagrin, since he was now constantly beleaguered by a flock of young queens whose eyes never left him, no matter what he did, no matter where he moved.  
  
I watched from a distance, enjoying some quiet solitude and thought. It was during this time that I ordered my feelings into some semblance of an organised mind. I had to admit, grumbling, that I did indeed feel more than just a mild interest in Bomba, and though that scared me beyond anything I can express, I finally accepted it.  
  
I didn't like all this brooding, it seemed to go against my nature at first, but I decided it was necessary. Somehow my reluctant opening up to Munkustrap and Quaxo, my careful steps towards being kind and considerate had made it impossible to go on totally unconcerned with all things around me.  
  
It was early in the morning, there was still some white frost on the ground. The air that wafted into my little domain was chilly.  
  
Yet, curiously enough, I felt warm, too warm for a tom who slept alone on an old rug. So I turned in the direction of the warmth and found my nose in the midst of wisps of red fur. I was close to jumping to my feet, but arms were circling round my waist, holding me safely in place.  
  
I must admit it felt eerily good not to wake up alone, but still, all my alarm bells were ringing! Even more so when as sleepy voice mumbling my name attested that my wildest suspicions were true - Bomba was lying cuddled up next to me!  
  
Before I had managed to extricate myself she was fully awake, straddling me and turning my face towards her. I couldn't escape her eyes, or her body, for that matter. I panicked - I was very close to throwing her off of me when she nuzzled my nose.  
  
I'm not saying that this was the first time a queen did that, but not every nuzzle is the same, and this one was very…intimate.  
  
"Quaxo and Munkustrap mentioned you needed a flat-mate."  
  
I couldn't overhear the emphasis on the word 'mate', nor did I really want to. Since speech had left me for good, I just held her tightly as she snuggled up to me.  
  
"Want me to stay?"  
  
"Always."  
  
I'm still surprised that this word ever left my lips, especially in a moment such as this. It did come somewhat too naturally in my view, but since Bomba only smiled and told me she'd gladly do just that, I had nothing to worry about.  
  
I did, however, catch Munk and Quax with a pail of water next time I saw them. They just laughed at me, thoroughly enjoying the little prank they'd played on me. Typical.  
  
I'm still surprised that my transformation from heartthrob to mate has been so smooth. That isn't to say that Quaxo didn't help. A few whispered words and Pouncival gladly took over my role, even though Bomba attested that the swinging of his hips would never come close to mine.  
  
The leaves are falling again now, another year has passed. And I must say that I can, in good conscience, echo my mother's words today, "A new life has begun."  
  
The End.  
  
() a quote from 'Electra' (John Partridge) from Starlight Express  



End file.
